


Noah and the Babes

by lazarusthefirst



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Banter, Dick Jokes, Driving, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Singing, What else is new, the gangsey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feet on the dash, Gansey’s hand on the gearstick between them, and it’s just like old times - if they ever really had old times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noah and the Babes

On mellow days when he’s not going for someone’s throat and there’s nothing particularly magic or stressful on the adventuring agenda, and the radio is low and the silence is sleepy, Ronan sings along with whatever they’re listening to. Feet on the dash, Gansey’s hand on the gearstick between them, and it’s just like old times - if they ever really had old times.

Gansey loved this new Ronan, however much he might miss the old one, because this Ronan knew that the darkness was there, but he was still living and laughing telling the world to go fuck itself, and this Ronan had Adam and Noah and Blue and he was something magical.

But when he sang along carelessly to the radio, at first growling the words deep in his throat like he wasn’t really paying attention, and then singing them clear as a bell as his voice warmed up, Gansey remembered. It didn’t matter what the song was, and it tugged a smile straight from Gansey’s heart whenever he heard that lazy, give a fuck tone, singing like he couldn’t help it.

Ronan never played the violin anymore, not since Niall died, but sometimes Gansey had caught him with an old fiddle, the one hanging up in the hallway between his parents old room and his room at the Barns. It was rickety and out of tune, and Ronan held it like a newborn that he was afraid of hurting, and gently tweaked and pulled at the strings, plucking until he got just the right sound, listening with a musicians ear to tiny nuances in the pitch that Gansey could never hear.

And then he picked up the bow, and his arms raised the fiddle to its position. Even that small wooden instrument managed to look like some sort of weapon in Ronan’s hands; the way he raised it to his shoulder could have been a soldier with his rifle. But then his hands raised the bow and his brow smoothed out as he heard the first, pure note as he slid it across the strings. Gansey, at the end of the hall, hardly dared breathe, not wanting to break the spell Ronan had cast. It was hardly a song that he played, just a few half-forgotten lines of something old, probably just to check that the fiddle was now properly in tune. Gansey turned his back, sitting on the steps with his head resting against the wall, and closed his eyes as the music washed over him. It never went flat; there was never a wrong note. The song was simple, sweet, with something incredibly old and forgotten buried in the music that was so perfectly Ronan right now, the Ronan that Gansey remembered first introducing him to his father. With a straight back and a proud smile and a sparkle in his eye.

His eyes were darker now, but they were so much more alive. Gansey knew that much.

One day Blue happened to be along for one of Ronan’s impromptu singalongs. She and Gansey were stretched out and snoozing in the back seat as Adam carefully drove the Pig along dusty back roads. Ronan sat in the passenger seat, legs stretched out the window. They were just driving for the sake of it. Noah occasionally popped up, tucked under Gansey’s arm alongside Blue (it was a tight fit back there, but Blue immediately shuffled each time to make it work).

The radio was rolling through the oldies, the Pig’s bad everything was making the song sound dusty and far away.

‘I like this song,’ Blue murmured, face on Gansey’s chest.

‘I can hardly hear it,’ Gansey said, stroking her hair.

‘Turn it up,’ complained Noah, who had the string of a kite tied around his wrist; the kite in question was pink, and almost as high in the sky as Chainsaw was.

Adam rolled his eyes, but didn’t touch the volume, knowing the sound just got scratchier instead of clearer, especially when they were this far outside Henrietta. Ronan had been humming along, looking scarcely less alert than the three in the back. His eyes were half closed and his whole body was slumped in a state of extreme relaxation, and now Adam cast an eye at him, hopeful.

Niall Lynch might have been Irish, but Ronan’s accent was all American, with a hint of husky Henrietta that he was picking up from Adam and Blue. This was the voice they now heard crooning softly, unconsciously, as he stared out the window high up at the cornflower blue sky, where Chainsaw was just a dot above the car. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the sun-heated door frame. ‘ _Cause I just can’t seem to drink you off my mind_.’

‘Ronan’s pretty good,’ Blue commented, raising her eyebrows. Gansey smirked; she felt it against her forehead. ‘It almost makes him sound like he’s a decent person,’ she added, tilting her head up at him in mock amazement.

‘She BLEW my nose and then she BLEW my mind,’ Ronan sang, tilting his head back and raising his voice significantly. Adam tried to disguise a laugh with a cough, and failed.

Noah tickled Blue as she rolled her eyes and slapped him away. ‘Never mind, he’s a terrible person.’

Ronan gave her a wink in the rearview mirror.

‘He used to sing all the time,’ said Gansey. Blue raised her eyebrows incredulously. ‘Oh yeah,’ he continued seriously. ‘Couldn’t stop him. All the classics. Britney Spears, N’Sync, Backstreet Boys …’

‘You loved it, Gansey,’ Ronan said. ‘ _Loved_ it.’

‘Wow,’ said Blue solemnly. ‘You can sing Britney? Shit, man. That’s, like, so raw.’

‘Don’t even act like you’re not impressed,’ Ronan said, throwing a glance at Adam, who was grinning widely at the whole exchange. ‘I only sing that for Parrish, though,’ he added. That got Adam’s attention. He took his hands off the road just long enough to meet Ronan’s and blush.

‘Adam gets all the good stuff,’ Blue complained easily.

‘Gets all of Ronan’s good stuff,’ Noah added.

‘Ssh,’ Gansey said, gathering Blue and Noah back on to his chest. ‘Go back to sleep. Troublemakers.’

But they all picked up their tired voices and sang along with him to the end of the song. Gansey pushed his foot into the back of Ronan’s seat, smiling contentedly, thinking back to when he and Niall and Matthew had sang the Rolling Stones in the car at night on the way back from a beer run at their last fourth of July party. The wind in their hair, windows down, the heat of the summer night rushing past them. Ronan had sang like that then, carelessly, free.

‘We could form a band,’ Noah said, gathering up his kite as they staggered out of the car back at Monmouth, the sun setting on their already warm bodies.

Blue laughed. ‘The Cabeswater Kids.’

’Noah and the Babes.’

‘The fucking idiots.’

‘No,’ said Gansey solemnly. ‘Ronan’s talent cannot be stifled by bandmates, taking all his glory with their stunning good looks. He’d go solo.’

‘Yes, perfect, I can see it on the marquee now - Ronan “deepthroat” Lynch,’ Blue announced, waving her hands up at imaginary lights.

Noah threw his head back and laughed. Ronan scowled, but there was humour in it. ‘Nice, Sargent. Did it take you the whole way back to think of that one?’

‘Nah,’ said Blue, throwing one arm around Gansey’s waist and the other around Noah’s. ‘I just didn’t want to interrupt the show.’

‘Well, I’m never doing that again,’ said Ronan flatly, as Adam locked the Pig (reverently, like it wasn’t a literal heap of junk). The others were already disappearing inside.

‘Don’t say that,’ said Adam quickly, glancing up. The keys were still in the driver’s door. Ronan looked at him, surprised at the note of urgency in Adam’s voice. It was reflected in his eyes too, just for a moment, until his expression softened, and he looked down. ‘It’d be a shame,’ he continued, quietly. ‘You have such a nice …’ Ronan felt a warm trail of heat light up his chest, settling in his heart.

Adam was shuffling his feat, tossing the keys from hand to hand like it was nothing. Ronan watched, briefly hypnotised. ‘Well, shit,’ he said at last. ‘At least someone liked it.’

Adam smiled, then shrugged. ‘I mean, even if it is shitty music.’

Ronan narrowed his eyes and pointed. ‘Uh, was that you taking a shot at the Stones? Nope - sorry, you going somewhere? Not in there, not with that attitude.’

Adam was laughing as Ronan backed him up away from Monmouth, a serious look on his face. ’Wow, didn’t realise that was a sore subject,’ he said, and boy, was it worth singing literally anything to get Adam to actually act playful. He was fighting a grin off his face, and looking up at Ronan through his eyelashes. 

‘So can I come in or what?’ Adam asked, tilting his head. He was leaning against the Pig, his body so long and slim and graceful, and Ronan had to physically hold himself back.

He pretended to think about it. ‘Depends,’ he said. ‘You gonna trash talk the greatest band in the world?’

‘I wouldn’t call them the _greatest_ \- ‘

‘The greatest band who ever lived, the Rolling Stones, yes’ Ronan continued, talking over him. ‘Were you saying something?’

Adam was fighting down that grin again, the one that was pulling mercilessly at the corners of his mouth, and Ronan made a few ‘What?’ gestures, cupping a hand over his ear until finally Adam said, ‘No, I will not talk shit about the Rolling Stones, the greatest…’

‘… band who ever lived, yes,’ Ronan finished with him. ‘Finally.’ Then he ducked down and pressed his lips to Adam’s, feeling the heat of the day flaring under their skin. Adam gasped, and immediately opened his mouth for Ronan, letting him in, and his hands came up to grip his shoulders like he’d been holding himself back, too.

When they got done kissing each other senseless, they stumbled into Monmouth like they were drunk, and Ronan tried his best to show Adam there was more than one way to earn the nickname "deepthroat". 

**Author's Note:**

> Ronan's singing Honky Tonk Women, by the Rolling Stones. One of my faves to sing very loudly in the car
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://thetrojeans.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/lazarusthefirst/)>


End file.
